Remember
by Newfi Girl
Summary: Captain Hook is driven by revenge when he travels realms in order to find the Savior that is supposed to break the dark curse on a town called Storybrooke. He simply wants her to bring back the memories of those trapped under the curse so that he can have his revenge on The Dark One, but what lengths is he willing to go to in order to make Emma realize who she is? Captain Swan.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: So It Begins**

A grey sky loomed overhead, rain descending from the inky cloud coverage in such a constant melody - never once missing a beat or changing patterns with non-existent wind – that the young bounty hunter perched within her aged yellow Volkswagen beetle had all but drifted into a light slumber. Her head slumped idly against the headrest of the driver's seat, eyes closed loosely as hundreds of New Yorkers scurried along the sidewalk bordering the bug, black and grey umbrellas accentuating an already bleak July afternoon.

There was a low hum of the radio accompanying the sound of rain meeting the metal of the car, as well as a trail of warm air coming from the heater that Emma had turned on before growing tired. Although afternoons in New York during this time of year were commonly in the uppers seventies, the storms from the last few days had urged the temperature downward considerably.

A loud 'thud' against the side of the bug caused the young blonde to startle awake with a gasp, frantic blue-green eyes searching for the source of the sound. A man's foot had slipped off the curb due to the waterlogged sidewalk and he had steadied himself using the only thing within reach, Emma's car. As he hurried on, Emma released a breath to calm herself before letting her head fall back against the seat once more. Tousled blonde waves cascaded over her shoulders in a care-free manner, moving when Emma ran a hand over the crown of her head and nestled it for a moment within the soft tendrils. She yawned loudly, using her free hand to muffle the sound as her eyes fell on the clock.

3:45pm. Her target would be leaving his job at the supermarket across the street soon. Usually at 4, sometimes later than that depending on if the co-worker of the day decided to show up on time for shift change. She silently hoped that whoever it was, would. That would mean less time waiting around.

Emma sat up straighter in her seat, moving to push her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. It was a habit she had developed over the years, but she chuckled to herself when her fingers didn't find her second eyes. It had been only yesterday that she had switched to contacts, tired of having to buy new glasses each time they broke during a bounty chase.

To kill time, Emma reached a hand towards the passenger seat and retrieved a file, bringing it back to her lap to flip through the contents. She paused on a page that listed her target's past offenses, the very reasons she was sitting on the side of the road in her bug on this miserable day, instead of being back in her apartment with a warm blanket and hot cocoa in her hands. The bounty hunter makes a point to herself that she shouldn't really complain. This job paid the bills, which allowed her to have shelter over her head and food in her stomach.

At the top of the paper in bold letters sat** Gabriel Smith**, a boy at the ripe age of 18 that had robbed various convenient stores in the past few years, sometimes getting a job for a bit in order to gain trust and swipe the money more easily, and sometimes holding cashiers at gun-point while hiding behind a ski mask. She raised an eyebrow when she noted just how much money he had stolen in all... how many businesses he had surely hindered along the way.

He had done this various times all throughout the northern United States, but had never drawn huge attention to himself until unknowingly robbing a store owned by a big-wig entrepreneur with too much money on his hands. Although the store was but a blip of his fortune, he had insisted a bounty hunter be sent after him, specifically one of the best, and that is where Emma had come in.

The 27-year-old sighed loudly, snapping the file closed once more before depositing it back into the passenger seat. She felt sympathy for this boy, especially since she had once been in his shoes, but perhaps being caught would turn his life around. Better now than later when one of those gun point robberies turned into a murder case. Then there really would be no turning back for him.

It had ultimately been Emma's time in jail that had prompted her to attempt a better life, to make it something worth living. If she could do that for a few of her targets - give them that rough shove that had ultimately helped her - then she could handle the looks of hatred she always received initially from them.

She took a moment to stretch, feeling the muscles within her back protest the movement, her spine following along with a few loud cracks and pops. She had been sitting in her car for a few hours now. Although she had been trailing Gabriel for the last few days and knew his timely habits, she hadn't wanted to take a chance of missing her bounty. The sooner she could catch him, the sooner he'd hopefully be headed down a new path in life.

The blonde perked up when her target exited the convenience store, the muscles in her toned legs flexing instinctively, ready to give chase should the young man try to flee.

"Here we go." She pulls her leather jacket closer to her torso and straightens it out before opening the door and stepping out into the pouring rain, her boots sloshing in a large puddle just beneath the front wheel. She placed her hands above her forehead in a sad attempt at keeping the rain out of her eyes and moved to follow her target towards a nearby parking garage.

Emma had already taken the liberty to clamp locks onto the back wheels of the boy's vehicle hours ago, so she knew he wouldn't be able to drive away in a frenzy of stupidity. She welcomed the coverage from the parking garage as she entered before casually calling out to her target.

"Gabriel." She offers a small wave as the 18-year-old turns around, damp blonde hair falling across his forehead with the movement. "Gabriel Smith?" She questions lightly once she has his attention.

And that is all it took… she could see a sudden rush of emotions flood his eyes - confusion, shock, recognition, and then fear. "Don't…" Emma tries, but it was too late.

Gabriel chunked his bag with force at the approaching woman as a diversion, making a run for it as the rather hard and heavy item collided with Emma's abdomen and then landed on her right foot. She gasped as air was forced from her lungs and then hissed sharply as pain coursed through her foot.

"What the hell are you carrying, rocks?" she snarls in agitation, before pushing the pain aside to give chase. She feels her legs pushing her forward, back towards the opening of the garage and into the storm (much to her aggravation). As she's running, her eyes scan the area for her target, and quickly they find a flash of bright red from the man's work vest vanishing among a sea of commuters.

She does her best to pick up the pace without face planting as she forcefully shoves her way through hundreds of people on a very slick and dirty sidewalk. As many times as she had given chase, she still was far from the most graceful woman in the world.

"Stop!" She knows Gabriel can hear her, but isn't surprised when he doesn't listen. They never do. At this point in her career, Emma silently contemplates why she even bothers yelling the statement anymore. Hell, a few years ago she wouldn't have listened either. She would have run as if her life depended on it (and had done just that, many times). If only she had known back then that stopping would have saved her a lot of trouble and heartache.

She slowly made progress, getting closer to Gabriel due to having a physique fit enough to handle this type of chase, whereas the young teen was clearly growing tired quickly. He darted left down a thin alley littered with garbage. Emma nearly slipped as she hit the slime that had accumulated on the ground surrounding the dumpsters.

Thankfully, when she has to stop briefly to steady herself, she also noticed that Gabriel was trapped by a dead end. He looked extremely panicked, trying desperately to climb the chain link fence that sat at the end of the alleyway.

"Ah, ah. No you don't," the blonde heaves, jogging to grab the back of his vest and yank him down off the fence. He falls with little fight, his grip poor due to the rain covering the fence, and also drenching both of them to the bone.

She wasted no time in pulling the handcuffs from the pocket of her leather jacket, slapping them around Gabriel's wrists while he is still trying to get his bearings. He thrashed and fought hard against her grip as she pulled him to his feet, his breathing hard and brown eyes wild.

"Hey, chill out," Emma snapped. "All you're doing is making this harder on yourself," she continued, her eyebrows knit together in a mix of annoyance and struggle to keep him still.

"I'm not going to prison!" he yells frantically, doing all he can to get away from the older woman. Thankfully, Emma's body is trained both mentally and physically for this, whereas Gabriel is just a scared teenager acting on his flight instincts. He does; however, manage to kick backwards and connect his right sneaker with Emma's shin. She sees stars for a moment as she holds back tears threatening to spill from her eyes in reaction to the pain.

"Fuck!" she snaps harshly. "Enough!" With that, she slams him against the chain linked fence and puts her full body weight against him, pinning his arms harshly against his back.

"Stop fighting before you get yourself in more trouble. You're already in enough as it is," she growled, giving her shin a moment to stop throbbing before she yanked Gabriel away from the fence and started pushing him back towards the mouth of the alley.

A flood of excuses, pleas, and bargains tumbled from the boy's mouth, the words all but toppling over one another in a slew of panic.

Emma rolls her eyes at his attempts to bargain his way out of his capture, letting out a gust of air to remove a wet tendril that had fallen in front of her face. She probably should have put her hair up for this little adventure.

"Think of this as a new start, kid," was all Emma muttered before falling silent for the rest of the walk to her bug. She tuned out his incoherent ramblings and helped him into the backseat before closing the door and leaning back against it. She wanted to take a moment to compose herself before entering the vehicle. She allowed her breathing to slow for a few moments before slipping her soaked jacket off and finding her normal place in the front seat.

Her shoulders shuttered violently as she moved to turn the heater on full blast, rubbing her hands together rapidly in front of the welcoming air.

"You know kid, if you hadn't run, we both wouldn't be freezing our asses off right now," Emma pointed out, watching through the review mirror as Gabriel shivered beneath his work clothing. He had grown quiet now, knowing what his fate would be for the coming years. To him it was the end of the world, but to Emma it was a new beginning.

"The next couple of years are going to suck, I'm not going to lie," Emma sighs, her tone one of sympathy. "But it'll get better and you'll learn from all of this."

"What the hell do you know, lady?" the teenager snapped out of anger, venom littering his tight tone.

Emma moved to put her car into drive, and then spared him one last glance through the mirror before turning her focus to the overly busy streets of New York.

"More than you could even imagine," she responds quietly, almost to herself rather than to the boy whom she knew didn't care at the moment.

But he would.

Yes, one day he would.

* * *

A man watched silently from under the cover of a nearby apartment complex, straining to keep his eyes on the blonde woman across the street as she shoved the even younger blonde male into the back seat of her... what was it called again? The term had slipped his busy mind. Four-wheeled contraption, that would due for now. The wheeled vehicles that littered the street were still a foreign concept to him, one he didn't care to learn about. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to stick around long enough to learn too many customs of this strange realm.

He was growing quite irritated with the crowd of people that kept shoving their way down the sidewalk, constantly colliding with one another, and many times blocking his view. He had more than once shoved the strangers out of the way harshly, earning glares from a few who quickly averted their eyes when they truly took him in.

He was fairly tall at 5'10" and stood in a way that screamed authority and demanded submission. His jaw was square and covered in a fairly well manicured beard, leading up to black hair and ocean blue eyes. Perhaps to a friend or lover they might be welcoming, but at the moment they are narrowed against the rain and hardened in thought. Perhaps the most obvious thing about the man, and probably what made passers shy away the most, was his quite blunt attire. He adorned all black clothing, including leather pants, scuffed boots in need of a good shining, a long-sleeved shirt with fanned out sleeves covered around his torso by a fitted leather vest, and a heavy leather coat that stopped just above the backs of his knees. A hook also replaced his left hand, which was lost long ago in another time. To those who passed him, he looked like a man dressed up as the iconic Captain Hook. If only they knew that he truly was the one and only, Killian Jones.

He cocked his head to the side curiously as the blonde woman leaned against her vehicle, exhaustion clearly evident in her stance. Whether it was mental or physical exhaustion, he wasn't sure. The boy hadn't been much of a challenge for her, but it had made Killian chuckle when the boy kicked her in the shin. It was something he would have probably done as a young lad. Although, admittedly, if he was being held captive by a woman with the looks of her, he might not have fought at all.

_So this is her, the famous savior. _Hook queries to himself, quite pleased with his catch.

"Emma Swan." He lets the words slip from his lips quietly, thoughtfully.

Although Killian had never met her famous parents, Snow White and Prince Charming, in person, he could tell (even from this distance and awful view through the damn rain), that she was their daughter. Her posture, although tired and quite drenched, was quite strong. And he had learned from her encounter with the young boy that she was quick on her feet and dangerous to be put up against. There was definite fight in her. Hook smirked, his lips curving upwards ever so slightly.

Perhaps killing a few fellow pirates from an enemy crew in order to obtain a magic bean to come here was worth it... if only for the view. He definitely wouldn't mind getting to know this woman soon enough.

Killian shifted slightly as Emma got into the car and vanished within the traffic of this painfully busy land. He preferred the smell of salt water and the view of a endless sea to all of this bloody rubbish.

He stood for a moment longer before merging into the flow of human traffic, back towards the dock where his ship was currently anchored. Thankfully, this was New York, and the arrival of a pirate ship wasn't the strangest thing that this city had seen, perhaps, not even close to the strangest. He would go back to his Jolly Roger for now and settle in for the night, but soon his work would need to begin.

Rumors had made their way through the realms over the years of a curse that had been cast by the Evil Queen herself, trapping many in this world without magic in a town known as Storybrooke, Maine. None of the residents had retained their memories of their former lives, trapped for the past 28 years without the ability to age. One of the many under the queen's curse, including the Savior's own parents, was none other than The Dark One, better known as The Crocodile, to Killian.

The crocodile had taken his hand years ago, and had killed the woman that he had loved right in front of his eyes. He had been forced to watch her pain and the fear that had clouded her eyes before she had collapsed in a dead heap on the deck of his ship, her heart crushed to dust within The Dark Ones' palm.

Killian's rage grew as these thoughts entered his mind and he shoved down a growl that was threatening to spill from his lips. He wanted revenge for what The Dark One had taken from him. But in order to do that, he needed to make the savior remember who she was.

He knew the basics of her story. Snow White had given birth to Emma moments before the curse hit, and her parents had sent her through a magical wardrobe to this world in order to avoid the affects of the Dark Curse. She was destined to find Storybrooke when she turned 28 years old, a birthday that would occur three months from this day, to break the curse and save everyone. However, Killian knew of one major problem to this plan. Emma had no idea of her destiny.

She had spent her nearly 28 years in this world without magic. How would she be expected to believe in such things as being a savior to a land caught up in the worst curse in history?

Hook would have to make Emma see... make her believe. He could simply go to Storybrooke now and finish the crocodile off. He had no magic and no memories, he was helpless and quite vulnerable. But no, that would not be good enough. Killian wanted him to remember everything. He wanted The Dark One to know exactly who he was when he shoved his sword through his chest and smiled in triumph as he killed him.

There was only one thing standing in his way of doing just that.

Emma Swan.

He would make her remember, whatever the cost.

He would have his revenge.

Soon.

Yes. Very, very soon.

* * *

**That's it for chapter 1. This is my first attempt at a Once Upon A Time story and these characters, so let me know what y'all think! I really look forward to playing with this story and seeing what comes of it. **

**Please note that Hook is still the rough, tough, and vengeful pirate that always acts on impulse. He hasn't yet changed, because right now he only views Emma as a pretty step towards getting his revenge.**

**I don't have a beta reader, so I apologize if there are any mistakes. I try to read and re-read before I publish, but I never am able to catch all the mistakes.**

**Anyway, thank you all for reading! Hope everyone have a great day!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Just Another Bounty Run **

Killian awoke the next morning in his chamber beneath the deck of the Jolly Roger. He could hear feet stomping around heavily above and groaned in annoyance, moving to shove his pillow across his face in order to drown out the noise. He could feel the rhythmic motion of his ship rocking with the morning surf, a movement that had become somewhat of a lullaby to the once adolescent captain.

There was a distinct thud that made its way to Killian's ears from the main deck, followed by loud yelp and a slew of curse words.

"Smee!" Hook bellowed as he shoved his pillow aside in annoyance. Blankets fell from Killian's body as he moved to sit up in the bed, then swing his legs over the side in one swift movement. "Bloody hell! Keep it down, will you?"

The dark-haired pirate ran a hand from his forehead to his chiseled chin roughly before placing his elbows upon his thighs. Light blue hues shot towards the mouth of the wooden staircase that led up to the main deck as a voice called out from above.

"Sorry, Captain!" The voice sounded strained as if the right-hand man was trying to lift something heavy. Hook rolled his eyes and stood, stretching out his back and spine to rid them of tightness from the previous night's slumber.

Hook moved towards the wardrobe in the room to replace his night clothing with a similar outfit to the previous day, one befitting a captain. Once dressed, he ran a hand through his tousled locks and then ascended the stairs to check on his only company.

"Having a bit of trouble, are we?" he questioned, eyebrows raised in slight amusement as he watched Smee furiously try to clean up mop water that had drowned a part of the deck. The aged wooden bucket not too far off to the side must have fallen due to the clumsiness of its' keeper, which had been the source of the loud thud from earlier.

Smee paused for a brief moment to glare at his captain before letting out a scoff. "Aye, just a wee bit." The shorter, slightly chubby man had earned enough respect from Hook to know a bit of friendly banter wouldn't earn him a walk down the plank.

Hook smirked and offered his hand to Smee, who took it gratefully and then moved to brush debris off his knees, leaving behind dampness from the mop water. "Why are you swabbing the deck when the skies are clearly going to open up again soon?" Killian questioned, motioning with his hook towards the darkening clouds.

Smee shrugged. "I don't like this realm. I'm trying to keep busy," he admitted without any prompting. "The ships here are… odd," he finally finished, obviously having taken time to settle on the last word.

They _were_ odd, to say the least. The Jolly Roger was surrounded by modern yachts, some much bigger than others, but all stark comparisons to Hook's prized pirate ship.

"Pay them no mind, Mr. Smee. Hopefully the Jolly Roger won't be in the company of these... things... for long."

The shorter man wiped a bit of sweat from his brow from the morning's labor and eyed his captain curiously. "Have you found her yet? The Savior?"

"Aye." Hook nodded once and moved over to a row of barrels that housed their rations. He slid one of the tops off and then stuck his hook into a juicy green apple before withdrawing the fruit and replacing the lid.

"Emma Swan is quite the site to see," he added before taking a large bite from the green fruit. "Definitely the daughter of the woman declared the most beautiful in all the realms." His bright eyes gleamed mischievously as he took another bite and swallowed. He turned his attention back to Smee, who chuckled.

"This should be a worth-while trip after all, then," the man sniggered. A sharp look from Hook quickly made the right-hand man retract his words. "Of course…" he stuttered, "… for you, my captain, not me." He swallowed thickly, his eyes meeting the deck.

Choosing to let Smee's words slide, Killian continued the conversation. "Now to find a way to meet the Savior in the flesh," he drawled on. "Perhaps I could request that she join me at a local tavern," he queried.

"Captain, it would just be an assumption since we only arrived yesterday," he started meekly, "but based on the looks of this place," he continued, motioning to the large skyscrapers that seemed to meld into the grey sky above, "I don't think this land's customs are the same as our own. Do they even have taverns?" he wondered with a wrinkle of his nose. He really didn't like this place.

"Aye, you may have a point, Smee," Hook sighed, biting through the apple once more. His eyes roamed the piers laid out before them, falling on a pair of men strolling towards a yacht not too far away. "The clothes are so strange here," he muttered, taking in the white dress pants and sweater vests that the men wore.

_If they can be called men in those clothes._ Hook scoffed inwardly to himself.

"Do we have to wear _that_?" Smee asked in complete disdain.

Hook gave the stubby man an incredulous look. "No, never," he confirmed without a second thought. "We will figure something else out."

The lean man stayed silent for a few moments, eying the buildings that stretched a far as the eye could see. "I'll be going back into the city today," he confirmed finally. "I'll figure it out as I go. Not that we really have much of a choice," he shrugged. Smee and Hook knew nothing of this land and had no one to teach them. Perhaps the Savior could help with that in the near future.

Mr. Smee nodded once in agreement and then moved to finish swabbing the deck.

Hook averted his gaze down to the water sloshing against his ship. He took a moment to savor the sounds it offered and how the rising sun reflected off the surface, causing the small ripples to shimmer. He would need to absorb this momentary peace if he wanted to refrain from killing anyone today among the busy hustle and bustle of this bloody city.

* * *

Emma paused to unlock the door to her apartment before pushing it forward and stepping inside. She was breathing fairly hard, her chest rising and falling beneath the sweat covered fabric of a white tank top. The outline of a black sports bra could be seen beneath the thin fabric that had become somewhat transparent from the perspiration.

She removed earbuds that were blasting upbeat techno music and set them on a table beside the door as she slipped her running shoes off. Having rid herself of the shoes, her socks shuffled quietly against the carpet, carrying her into the kitchen to retrieve a drink.

The blonde pulled open the fridge to snag a water bottle and then take a rather large, greedy swig before wiping a stray drop from her chin that had escaped her lips. It was just after 10am. The sunrise run through Central Park had been just what she needed to clear her mind.

She raised a hand to release the pony tail that her hair had been in and ruffled the damp locks so that they fell naturally down her back and over her shoulders. After another swallow of water, she made her way towards the bedroom with the intention of taking a shower.

As she passed sliding doors that opened up to a 15th story balcony overlooking the city, Emma noted that it had started raining yet again. After nearly 5 days of constant rain, she was growing quite sick of this weather.

After ridding her body of the workout clothing and permitting the shower head to heat up somewhat, she climbed inside and allowed the water to drum against her shoulders and back. It felt marvelous, as a warm shower always did after one of her runs. Her hair was quickly soaked down to the roots as she massaged her fingers through her scalp and leaned her head back underneath the spray of water.

To her dismay, the shower still did not silence the thoughts swarming through her mind that had sent her briskly on a run in the first place - her birthday, just under three months away. Another birthday that would be spent alone. Another birthday spent not knowing who the hell she was.

Emma turned to rest her palms against the cool tile, allowing the back of her head and neck to be doused by the falling water.

Sure, she knew who she was in a blunt sense - Emma Swan. A woman with a shitty past that was now paid to track down people all across the country.

But she didn't know _who _she was. Her past was a complete mystery. She had just showed up on the side of the road as a baby, crying out for family and parents that were not there. Not even her records offered any answers. Just a list of the clothes and items she had been found with, along with a newspaper article about that night. One of those items had been a baby blanket with her name sewn into the fabric, which was stored away in a box beneath her bed.

Emma's gut churned at the realization that her past would most likely stay a mystery for her entire life. She had tried many times to figure out something, _anything_, about herself, but there were never answers. Just dead end after dead end. Her attempts to track down information about herself were often what got her into trouble. Eventually, she had just given up.

Emma listened as water spattered off the tiled walls and dripped down her tired form before vanishing down the drain. She chuckled dryly, humorlessly, to herself and ran a hand over her face to rid her eyes of water.

Every year as her birthday approached, these damn thoughts always came at her full force. She had come to terms with her predicament years ago, but that didn't mean her past would ever stop haunting her.

"Get a hold of yourself, Swan," she muttered with disdain. The shower was beginning to get cold, so she finished cleaning herself up and then turned the flow off. She wrapped a warm towel around herself and moved to dress in black sweats and a lose-flowing grey tank. She would need to change later, but for now, she just wanted to attempt the foreign concept of relaxing. At least as much as her mind would allow her to.

She ruffled her hair with the towel to rid it of extra water and then pulled it back into a lose bun.

The time neared noon as Emma poured herself a bowl of cheerios and saturated the little O's with milk before retreating out onto her covered balcony. She crossed her legs on one of the cushioned chairs and inhaled a large spoonful of the cereal, swallowing before she rested her head against the back of the chair.

She closed her eyes for a moment and willed her mind to shut up as her ears were filled with the sounds of impatient car horns, heavy rain, and loud chatter below. Sometimes she wished that her balcony overlooked a large lake with nothing but the sounds of the wind and chirping birds to keep her company. Central Park was as close as she ever got to that.

Her mind started to claw at her senses again, so instead of focusing on her birthday and past, she decided to go over tonight's plans.

Emma's boss had just assigned her a new case late last night. Rather than a boy robbing supermarkets, this was a married man who had stolen millions from his wife in order to run off with another woman (which he played and then dumped as well). When a tip had been called in revealing that he was in New York, Emma had immediately been given the case.

After many calls to some of her connections around the area early this morning, she had managed to find out that he had been seen at the Southgate bar and restaurant for the last couple of nights. Tonight she would go there to find her target and give justice to the poor wife he had screwed over.

This would be one of her more satisfactory bounties. Emma looked forward to seeing the bastard's face when he was caught. Perhaps her emotions were driving her thoughts a bit in this case, as a man whom she had once loved had betrayed her as well. She roughly shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts that didn't matter now.

Emma brought the cereal bowl to her lips and tipped it upwards to retrieve the last bit of milk left, and then went back into the kitchen to deposit the now empty item in the dishwasher.

A wave of exhaustion suddenly overtook her. Emma muffled a yawn with her hand and decided that an afternoon nap would be a good idea, especially if she wanted to be at her best tonight.

Rather than messing her bed up again (she hated making the bed and definitely didn't want to do it more than once today), Emma deposited herself on the couch in the middle of the apartment and flipped on a lifetime movie for background noise. Not too long after, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The repetitive beeping of her phone's alarm jostled Emma from her slumber. She groaned in protest to the noise and rolled onto her side, reaching for the phone on the coffee table. With a hard tap to the iphone's screen, the noise ceased.

Shadows danced along the walls as light from the television screen ignited the fairly dark room. Her alarm had been set for 7pm, so that would give Emma an hour to get prepared for tonight's bounty hunt and make her way to the bar.

Emma exhaled probably louder than necessary as she pushed herself off the couch and made her way to the bedroom to prepare for the night ahead. As she opened her closet and shuffled through a very limited supply of dresses, her hands settled on a red halter-topped evening gown.

While the dress would cover Emma's legs and meet the floor at a perfect length for herself, it was far more revealing towards the top. She had worn the dress before, and she knew it hugged her waist nicely, while also accentuating her chest with a V-neck that stopped where her ribs met. While she preferred men to focus on her face and not her chest, she needed her target to be interested.

Blonde tendrils were pulled up into an elegant bun, leaving two wavy strands to frame her rounded face. She took the time to add a little more makeup than she normally would, also accentuating her lips with a shade of red that matched her gown.

Once dressed, she slipped on a pair of black, 3-inch heels and grabbed a small handbag with her ID, handcuffs, and some cash before leaving the apartment.

New York seemed even more alive at night. While the ground was soaked from the earlier rain, the clouds had momentarily cleared away to reveal a star-filled night sky above the towering buildings. Emma had chosen to walk to Southgate, although she detested having to do so in these uncomfortable shoes.

Merely 10 minutes after leaving her apartment, Emma entered the restaurant and sauntered over to the bar, taking a seat at one of the empty stools.

The bartender, a young man dressed nicely in a suit that accompanied the rather fancy atmosphere of this place, requested her drink order with a small smile. Emma usually preferred beer or anything mixed with whisky, but she figured wine would be a better choice for this evening.

"A glass of Cabernet would be great, thanks," she responded kindly, mimicking his smile with one of her own.

"Of course." He stepped to the other side of the bar to pour her glass while Emma took a moment to survey the restaurant. The place was rather small and modern with glass columns supporting the structure.

The wooden floors were accentuated by tables and chairs of similar shades. Florescent white lights brightened the open area, while blue lighting covered the many glass shelves holding the liquor behind the bar. Soft music played over hidden speakers in the background, mostly drowned out by the many voices talking over one another.

"Here you are, ma'am." The young man set down a square napkin and then deposited the wine glass upon it gently. "Let me know if I can get you anything else."

Emma nodded in thanks and lifted the glass to her lips, taking a sip that was perhaps larger than necessary. Anyone could probably tell that she wasn't usually a wine drinker.

The glass in hand, Emma casually swiveled her stool to face the main sitting area again, her blue-greens scanning the room for a face she had memorized this morning. As if on cue, a man in his mid-thirties strolled through the glass doors and paused for a moment to straighten his suit jacket.

He was well groomed with dirty blonde hair that was slicked back and slightly off to the side. His black suit seemed too small for Emma's taste, as obvious defined biceps were trying to protrude through the fabric. Green eyes swept the area before landing and staying on the bar.

Emma could feel his eyes pause on her bare back as she elegantly turned back towards the bar and took another sip of her wine. She tried to keep from wrinkling her nose at the taste she didn't particularly care for.

A few moments passed before her clueless target made his way over to the lone blonde. He appeared on her right side, offering a toothy smile that would probably dazzle most young women. "Hello," he started confidently.

Emma took another sip of her wine before acknowledging him. "Hello," she drawled in response, slowly placing her glass back on the bar.

She noticed him glance down at her hand for a wedding ring before his eyes roamed up her arm and paused, probably longer than he meant to, on her chest. "Eyes up here, Romeo," Emma commented with a smirk. Internally she felt insecure and uncomfortable, but truly the dress had fulfilled its purpose – to attract her target. She needed to remain confident on the outside.

His eyes quickly jumped to meet her own and he bowed his head in apology. "I'm very sorry. But I must say, you are simply breath taking." There was that smile again. "Is this seat taken?"

Emma shook her head once in response as he smoothly took the open stool beside her. "I'm Damon," he offered once settled.

"Nice to meet you, Damon." Emma offered those words, but purposefully avoided saying her own name.

Not deterred in the least, he pushed the conversation forward. "Seeing as you and I both seem to be here alone, may I buy you a drink?" He eyed her wine glass that was nearly empty.

"Sure, why not?" she finally answered with a convincing smile of her own.

It was nearly two hours later and five drinks in for Damon that he eyed the doors and then turned back to a tipsy Emma. She had allowed herself one too many glasses of wine, especially for being on the job, but convincing appearances had to be kept up to make this night successful.

"Wanna get out of here?" Damon slurred, his green eyes clouded and words slurred by intoxication. While Emma had been having wine, he had been slurping down vodkas on the rocks all night.

Instead of responding with words, she gave him a flirtatious smile accentuated by her red lipstick and stood from her stool. Damon took that as a yes and slapped some cash down on the bar before stumbling behind her towards the door.

Once they were outside and down the street a few yards, the drunken man grabbed Emma's forearm and pulled her backwards, suddenly pinning her between the brick wall and himself. The movement shocked her, as she hadn't been expecting it, and her handbag containing the handcuffs tumbled out of her hand and to the ground.

"Woah, there," she offered calmly, faking a chuckle. On the inside, her instincts were screaming at her to fight or run. "Not out here."

Damon moved in closer, now pinning both of her arms against the wall. She could feel his breathe against her neck and smelled the vodka dripping from it. "You're just too hot to wait," he slurred in response. By this time, the back street they were on was nearly deserted aside from the occasional passerby. At the moment though, it was only Emma, Damon, and darkened buildings.

He was kissing her neck now, even as Emma protested with hard shoves to his chest. "I think I just want to take you right here and now."

A shadow of panic crossed Emma's eyes, causing them to widen. "I said, _no_!" Emma snapped. She brought a knee up to meet his groin and Damon gasped out in pain, gagged sounds escaping his mouth as he stumbled backwards.

She rapidly moved to retrieve her handbag that had fallen on the ground, but her reflexes were slower than normal due to tipsiness from the glasses of wine.

"You bitch!" Damon spat the words as he hurled himself towards Emma, his right fist and arm cocked backwards.

Just as the bounty hunter withdrew the handcuffs from her bag and spun around to face the drunk man again, Damon's fist collided with her jaw and made a sickening crack. She was thrown backwards by the force, the back of her head colliding with the brick wall.

Red instantly began to soak through her blonde tendrils as Emma sunk to the ground in a dizzy heap. Black spots began to plague her rapidly blurring vision.

Damon lifted his hand to strike again and Emma prepared for the impact, but it never came. She watched as another man grabbed hold of Damon's fist.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you that its impolite to hit a woman?" a new voice questioned. There was a strong accent there, one that was definitely foreign to this area.

Emma's eyes drooped closed, but she heard a second crack and then a body hitting the ground, indicating that Damon had been knocked out cold.

"Who…" Emma tried to speak, but her words died away as sleep overtook her. Her vision blackened completely as the stranger reached a hand out to support her battered head.

"It's alright, love. I'm here."

His words faded as the world went black.

* * *

**Hi again! **

**I know this is a pretty quick update (and something that I won't likely be able to do very often), but I wanted to go ahead and get a bit deeper into the story. **

**Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts.**

**Until the next update...**

**-Newfi**


End file.
